Debbie Does the Fellowship
by Gypsie Rose
Summary: The only parody LOTR Mary Sue fanfic you'll ever need! Debbie lands in Middle Earth, joins the Fellowship and bags ALL the cute guys. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1: A Mysterious Arrival

DEBBIE DOES THE FELLOWSHIP  
by Gypsie Rose (gypsierose3000@yahoo.com)  
  
Author's Note: ***NEWLY REVISED*** in preparation for the sequel! See "Debbie Does   
The Two Towers," also at Fanfiction.net!  
  
This is a parody of fanfiction cliches and self-insertion stories. It is not meant to   
slam fanfiction writers, and is not based on any one story in particular--it's only a   
bit of fun. Kind of book-verse, kind of movie-verse, definitely AU. Please, please,   
please, please read and review!   
  
CHAPTER 1: A Mysterious Arrival  
  
The eight remaining members of the Fellowship of the Ring were leaving Lothlorien,   
their hearts heavy with the task at hand.   
  
"What do you suppose Galadriel meant when she said we would shortly meet a mysterious   
stranger who would aid us in our quest?" Merry asked Aragorn as they marched along.  
  
"I know not, but Galadriel is very wise, and what she predicts will surely come to   
pass," the Ranger replied, his keen grey eyes fixed ahead. The road rose before them   
to the crest of a small hill, and a cluster of hazel tress, still leafless in the new   
spring, could be seen to the south. The road itself was lined with tender shoots of   
new grass, poked through with budding crocus plants, their tips vibrant violets and   
yellows.  
  
Frodo trudged along in silence just behind Aragorn and Merry, the weight of the Ring   
pulling as if a great lodestone around his neck. Sam hovered, gnatlike, about his   
person, asking him if he needed any assistance. Behind him, Boromir glowered with   
desire...for the Ring, of course. Pippin followed the powerful warrior, trying to get   
him to spar a bit along the way, but not succeeding. Bringing up the rear, Legolas   
and Gimli strolled side by side, arguing in an undertone over who would kill the most   
orcs, should they ever come across any. And the pall of Gandalf's absence permeated   
the thoughts of all.  
  
As they crested the hill, each thought he beheld a rare vision: a young woman,   
dressed in strange clothing, stood in the road's center, frantically pressing buttons   
on and screaming into a small pink device she held pressed to her ear. Her voice was   
beautiful, like the wind through reeds, as she said:  
  
"Dammit! I pay sixty bucks a month for this crappy cell phone service, and I can't   
get a signal if I go fifty feet from my house! I am *so* going to cancel this at the   
end of the month!"  
  
Merry stopped abruptly, causing Aragorn to plow into him from behind. "Her words are   
most strange," the hobbit said, steadying himself against the Ranger's accidental   
assault.  
  
"Yes," agreed Aragorn, his eyes narrowed in assessment. The maid was fairly tall in   
height, though not as tall as he. Her chestnut hair was bound in a braid that swung   
as low as her waist, and her snugly fitting light blue shirt and short, rolled brown   
shorts left little about her comely form to the imagination. She wore thick-soled   
boots that looked as if they could withstand a good deal of hard travel, and had a   
strange belt about her waist. Slung over one shoulder were a small black bag with   
tiny straps and a larger, evenly rectangular bag on a single wide strap.  
  
She blinked her green eyes at the Fellowship. "Oh...my...god...."  
  
Boromir hissed in a loud whisper, "Perhaps she's been robbed and someone has made off   
with her clothing."  
  
"I could hear that a mile away, you oaf," Legolas hissed back. "Perhaps you should   
hold your tongue."  
  
Aragorn held a hand up to stay the company, and took a step toward the strange woman,   
careful to keep his other hand on the hilt of his sword.  
  
The woman opened the small black bag and dropped the pink object into it, pulling out   
a small, white tube in its place. She held the tube at arm's length, in line with the   
approaching Ranger's face. "Don't come any closer! I was top student in my self-  
defense class!"  
  
"Good Lady," Aragorn said, gazing warily at the canister she held, "we mean you no   
harm. Pray tell, what business do you have in this lonely country, so far away from   
any town? Were you taken by bandits and left here?"  
  
"How should I know?" the woman complained. "One minute I was reaching for a bottle of   
Evian before I started my photo shoot, and then there was this flash of light and this   
burning smell, and I was here. Toto, this don't look like Kansas...."  
  
"Her speech is strange," Gimli growled, "I don't trust her."  
  
"Besides," the woman continued, "You people can't possibly be who I think you are.   
Either that, or I wandered onto the wrong set or something."  
  
"And who is it, exactly, that you think we are?" Aragorn questioned, loosening his   
sword in its sheath.  
  
"Let's see, by the sword and the stubble, and the general unwashed appearance, I'd   
guess you were Aragorn, son of Arathorn. That short one next to you is either Merry   
or Pippin, the big oafy guy is probably Boromir, the one with the pointy ears is   
Legolas, the chunky little guy is Samwise Gamgee, the dwarf is Gimli, and the cutie   
with the big baby blues has got to be Frodo. Is that about right?"  
  
All the Fellowship simultaneously drew their weapons.  
  
"She's a witch!" shouted Boromir, as he stepped menacingly forth.  
  
"She was sent by the Dark Lord to get the Ring!" Sam screamed, throwing himself in   
front of Frodo.  
  
"Will you shut up about the Ring!" Aragorn hissed through clenched teeth. "My Lady,"   
he continued evenly, a dangerous look in his eye, "Please do explain how you come to   
know us."  
  
She blinked. "Well, it's in the book, isn't it? Everyone knows that. Besides, you   
look just like the guys from the movie." She paused. "Did Jack from the studio set   
this joke up? You all must have cost him a small fortune. 'Let's tease Debbie--she's   
so gullible.' What a pain! And to think he even got me a job as the new model for   
Lara Croft! I'm still not going out with him, though."  
  
"What is this book of which you speak?" Aragorn asked, trying desperately to make some   
sense of her words.  
  
"_The Fellowship of the Ring_ of course," she replied. "Everyone born in the 20th   
century has heard of it. Here, I'll show you." She swung the large bag from her   
shoulder and unfastened it with a single fluid motion by pulling on a small metal key.   
Within was a black box, wider than it was tall. She hit a latch at the front of the   
box and it popped open, revealing a window embedded in its lid. The window glowed   
with a strange, white light.  
  
"A witch, I tell you!" Boromir muttered.  
  
The others ignored him, as they were usually wont to do.  
  
"Gandalf's not with you anymore, right? So have you been to Lothlorien?"  
  
The others clustered about her now, trying to get a good look at her magical scrying   
device--with the exception of Boromir, who stood, huffing, off to himself.  
  
"We have just come from there," Sam said in wonderment. "Are you an elf?"  
  
"Does she *look* like an elf?" Legolas asked haughtily.  
  
Ignoring him, she touched some bottons on her device, and then pointed to the window.   
Wondrous script shone there.  
  
"These are runes I do not recognize," Aragorn said in dismay.  
  
"I'll read it to you then," the woman said. She quoted them a passage or two   
describing their most recent travels.  
  
"She's been spying on us!" Boromir called from the edge of the road.  
  
"Okay," the woman said slowly as she closed the lighted box. "So this isn't a joke?"  
  
"We could not jest with one so wise," Gimli said. "You would catch us in it, I   
imagine."  
  
"You're not all just actors, then?"  
  
"We have not the time for that kind of folly," answered Aragorn sadly.  
  
"Whoo boy."   
  
******************************  
  
Debbie had tried most earnestly to explain what a laptop was, what a cell phone was,   
what pepper spray was, who Lara Croft was, and what it meant to be from 21st-century   
Earth, but the Fellowship refused to see her as anything less than a powerful   
sorceress from another world, sent to replace Gandalf on their quest. She shrugged   
and let it go at that, since she seemed to lack the "magic" to return herself to her   
own world. Besides, in the three days she had been stuck in Middle-Earth, she had   
found the place to be quite lovely--if a little dirty and boring.  
  
The Fellowship had insisted after the first day that Debbie's clothes were "unseemly   
for travel," and she was cold besides, so she let them lend her clothing. Hobbit   
breeches made stylish--if rather tight--capris, and Boromir's extra shirt, loose and   
billowing in grey, went well over the mini-tee she already wore, though he begrudged   
giving it up. Legolas had provided a pair of knee-high, soft leather boots when she'd   
complained that the combat boots were only for show and very new and uncomfortable.   
Aragorn had provided his own cloak, saying that he was used to the cold and wouldn't   
need it when, by the looks of the front of her shirt, she obviously did. And finally,   
she'd taken her lengthy chestnut hair out of its confining braid and let it hang free  
over her shoulders and down her back. The whole ensemble looked rather fetching   
indeed, if she did say so herself.  
  
The hobbits, especially Merry and Pippin, were the most curious about her, though their   
curiosity seemed to extend more to trying to catch her undressing to sleep, than to her   
knowledge of the future or the mysterious circumstances of her arrival. Still, they   
were charming, cute little fellows--most unlike Boromir, who gave her such a scowl and   
a wide berth when he passed her that she nearly feared he'd kill her in her sleep.  
  
One night, when the stars shone brightly in the crisp, moonless sky, Debbie expressed   
her fears to Merry and Pippin as they hovered about her, waiting for her to find a   
place to lay her bedroll for the evening.  
  
"Boromir isn't such a bad fellow, really," one of the hobbits said. She never could   
tell the two little fellows apart.  
  
"No, he isn't at all," the other agreed. "He's been nice enough to teach us to make   
better use of our swords."  
  
Debbie raised one perfectly-arched eyebrow. "Oh, really?" she said slyly.  
  
The two hobbits looked at each other, their eyes wide. Then they burst into giggles.  
  
******************************  
  
Later that evening, coming from off in the woods, away from the rest of the encampment,   
Legolas could faintly hear dialogue that raised his...curiosity:  
  
"Oh! Oh, Merry! Oh, Merry, that's *wonderful*! Oh, Merry--yes! Yes!"  
  
"Er...Deb...I'm *Pippin*. Merry's down there."  
  
"Yes...well. Sorry about that, right? No hard feelings?"  
  
"*Some* hard feeling."  
  
"Ooh...Pippin..." 


	2. Chapter 2: The Passing of the Ring

DEBBIE DOES THE FELLOWSHIP by Gypsie Rose (gypsierose3000@yahoo.com)  
  
CHAPTER 2: The Passing of the Ring  
  
Frodo sat, brooding alone, against a tree-stump off a ways from the Company, but still within sight. Merry, Pippin, and Debbie had just returned from retrieving water from a stream nearby, and all three looked rather...tousled. They had spent much time in each other's company, especially in the past day or so. Frodo pursed his cupid-bow lips, a tear coming to his liquid blue eyes. How he wished he could be as carefree as they!  
  
It was then that Debbie, for just a moment, met his gaze. Frodo's chin quivered and his brow knitted as he felt a pang of longing for his own lost innocence and wasted youth. Debbie was brushing Merry and Pippin aside and coming his way. Frodo stared suddenly at the ground, a large, wet tear rolling from his rosy cheek and plopping on the dusty earth. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and started from the firm, but gentle touch.  
  
"Frodo?"  
  
Her musical voice soothed him instantly, and he looked up into her green eyes with a sorrowful attempt at a smile. "Hullo, Debbie."  
  
"You seem so sad, Frodo," she cooed, her voice as light as dove-song. "Isn't there anything I can do to help?" She put a comforting arm around his shoulders.  
  
"You know you cannot," he sobbed, his tears starting anew. "What's writ in the crystal window--lap...top--of yours tells you that much."  
  
"I was thinking...," Debbie mused, "I'm not really from this world and all, so maybe the Ring wouldn't affect me."  
  
Frodo shrank back, throwing her arm from him with a violent motion. "No! You mean to take it and use its power!"  
  
"Jeez, little paranoid, aren't we?" Debbie rolled her eyes at him. "I'm just trying to help."  
  
"You sound like Boromir," Frodo replied in a low voice.  
  
"Please--don't insult me!" Debbie said with a click of her tongue. "I wouldn't know *how* to use the stupid thing even if I had it, and what use do I have for big, icky, evil power, anyhow? You just always look so lost and sad and stuff, and I feel bad for you, okay? I used to give money to the Anti-Cruelty Society and everything back home, you know--I can't stand to see things suffer. I won't even squash bugs that get into my house...except for spiders, of course, but they don't count. I doubt that spiders have a soul or anything that could mess up my karma...."  
  
Frodo blinked. The woman made absolutely no sense at all, but she was very fetching, with the waves of her chestnut hair framing her heart-shaped face and setting off her focused green eyes. She had an honest manner and an honest face, that was certain.  
  
"...as I was saying, I only wanted to help. You don't have to be afraid of me." She smiled dazzlingly. "Besides," she added, "the book says you'll..." She leaned over and whispered in the hobbit's ear.  
  
Frodo gasped in horror. "I'll *what*?!"  
  
"Oops. Maybe I shouldn't have told you that." She placed a dainty hand to her full lips. "Sorry."  
  
Frodo's resolve began to waver. "By the Valar," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "you mean this only gets worse?"  
  
"You have no idea," she replied solemnly.  
  
Frodo tore the Ring from his neck. "Take it!" he fairly shouted, throwing it in her direction. "Please--I want nothing to do with it anymore. Ringbearer be damned--I'm only a hobbit!"  
  
Debbie caught the chain easily, and lifted it to bring the Ring even with her emerald eyes. "*This* is *it*? It's kind of plain, isn't it? Not even a diamond or anything." She wrinkled her cute, little, upturned nose. "I have much better rings at home."  
  
Frodo sighed with the relief of one who has had a great weight removed from his soul. "I guess it's all right for you to have it," he ventured.  
  
Just then, Aragorn came running over, sword drawn. "What trick is this?!" he shouted at Debbie. "He is the Ringbearer, not you!"  
  
"Looks like I am now," she replied with a shrug. "I can't believe everyone's getting so worked up over such a tiny little thing." She slipped the Ring on her finger, and....nothing happened.  
  
"She's not invisible!" Frodo said in utter amazement, quizzically looking at the Ranger.  
  
"No, she's not," Aragorn replied. "This means she's either in league with the Dark Powers, or she is unspeakably powerful in her goodness. I'm guessing since she hasn't killed us all in our sleep in these last few days, it must be the latter." He looked from the hobbit to Debbie and back again. "Well, I suppose if it has no effect on her, she might as well bear it now. I'd best explain this new turn of events to the rest of the Fellowship." Aragorn turned and stalked away.  
  
Frodo gave Debbie a strong, sudden hug. "Thank you so much for getting rid of that drag of a Ring for me! It was more than kind of you to offer. How can I ever repay your kindness?"  
  
"Well...you are so much cuter than those other two hobbits...," she began slowly, tousling his curly locks. "Wanna have sex?"  
  
"This day just gets better and better," Frodo replied with a wink.  
  
******************************  
  
The spirits of the Fellowship were much improved after Debbie had taken the burden of the Ring from Frodo. Frodo himself often lifted his voice in song as they traveled along the river, even when they had to portage their boats. When they had camped for the next evening, Sam found the courage to approach Debbie as she set up her bedroll.  
  
"Miss Debbie," he began timidly, his blond curls trembling in his nervousness.  
  
"Yes, Sam?" Her voice, to Sam, sounded better than the elves'.  
  
"Miss Debbie, I've been meanin' to thank you for what you've done for my Master." Sam wrung his felt hat in his hands. "I tried to thank you last night, but I couldn't find you nowheres...nor could I find Master Frodo, come to think on it."  
  
Debbie coughed discreetly. "I'm sure you just didn't look in the right place, Sam."  
  
"He's so much happier now that you've got the Ring and all," Sam continued, noting that Debbie was a fine figure of a woman, indeed.  
  
"I'm glad I could help." She reached down and wrapped a curl of Sam's hair around her finger.  
  
"Miss Debbie...," Sam stammered, "How can I ever repay you for what you've done for Master Frodo?"  
  
"You have the cutest little pug nose, Sam," Debbie said, tapping the tip of his nose with her slender index finger. "Wanna have sex?"  
  
"I suppose my Master won't be needing me this evenin'," Sam said with a blush. 


	3. Chapter 3: Surprises and Decisions

DEBBIE DOES THE FELLOWSHIP  
by Gypsie Rose (gypsierose3000@yahoo.com)  
  
CHAPTER 3: Surprises and Decisions  
  
The next evening, as they pulled the boats ashore to make camp, Debbie offered to help gather   
the firewood. Though all four hobbits wanted to go along with her for some reason, Aragorn   
decided that she'd feel less burdened if she was accompanied by someone more steadfast--such   
as Gimli. Besides, if the Enemy sensed the Ring on her, Gimli would be far more efficient a   
protector than the hobbits.  
  
There seemed to be very little dry wood on the forest floor near the bank, so the two had to   
go deep into the leafy woods to find suitable tinder. Debbie bent over to retrieve a nice-  
sized branch, and found herself eye-to-eye with a very solemn dwarf who had not yet collected   
a stick of firewood.  
  
"I've seen you mucking about with the hobbits, Missy!" Gimli growled.  
  
Debbie wondered if she should reach for her pepper spray, as the dwarf came equipped with a  
rather large and sharp axe. His beady eyes glowered at her from a mass of tangled facial hair  
which seemed a combination of beard, moustache, eyebrow, and scalp.  
  
"You've not had anything until you've had a dwarf!" Gimili shouted, whipping the belt from his  
waist. His trousers promptly fell about his ankles.  
  
Debbie's eyes widened with sudden appreciation. "Glad to see you're not a dwarf in *every*   
respect," she said lasciviously.  
  
******************************  
  
Later, when the Fellowship had all but given up on having a fire that evening, Debbie and   
Gimli returned, sheepishly dragging a small quantity of wood.  
  
"Are you hurt?" Aragorn called to Debbie, noticing a strange stiffness to her walk.  
  
She exchanged a brief grin with Gimli, and called back, "Nope--couldn't be better!"  
  
******************************  
  
"I'm telling you, Boromir, that things aren't going to go well--"   
  
"Quiet, witch! Nothing's gone well since you've joined our Fellowship." Boromir scowled at  
Debbie.  
  
Debbie did her best to scowl back. According to the book, they were only a few days from   
Amon Hen, but despite all of her numerous attempts to warn Boromir of his impending death,   
he would not listen at all. "It's not fair to say nothing's gone well," she countered.  
  
"I should have the Ring," Boromir complained.  
  
"Yeah, that's a hell of a plan, big guy." Debbie gave him "the hand" and walked away into   
the forest.  
  
She'd only gone a little ways in, when she noticed the undergrowth had grown thicker, making   
it quite hard to see in the growing night. She heard a rustle in the bushes next to her, and   
she threw open her purse and readied her pepper spray, hoping it would work on orcs.  
  
When the rustle did not quiet in several minutes, she decided to investigate, in case it was   
a spy or Gollum or something. She parted the bushes carefully and peered into the clearing   
beyond.  
  
The sight that assailed her made even Debbie blush. Two exquisite male figures, whom she   
soon identified as Legolas and Aragorn, were rolling about in each other's arms on a pile of   
their discarded clothing. Their skin shone brilliantly in the moonlight. Legolas' blond   
mane, loosed from its binding, fell across Aragorn's strong shoulders as they embraced. The   
elf clutched at the Man's well-muscled back, calling out a lot of words in a language Debbie   
couldn't understand, but guessed was Elvish.  
  
She cleared her throat rather loudly.  
  
"By Elbereth!" Aragorn shouted, leaping up and shielding himself with Legolas.  
  
"Fearless Leader," Debbie began slyly, "Who knew all those thousands of fanfiction stories   
were correct?"  
  
"I've never done this before in my life," Aragorn sputtered. "It's all Legolas' fault."  
  
"It was your idea!" Legolas insisted. "I only went along because I haven't been laid for   
millenia."  
  
"Do you know how long I've been engaged?!" Aragorn said sadly.   
  
"So," Debbie began slowly, "You two aren't really, like, in love or anything?"  
  
"Um...no," said Aragorn flatly.  
  
"With a human? Not hardly," sniffed Legolas.  
  
"Hmm...," Debbie gazed at the two admiringly. "So the only problem is neither of you are  
getting any. Why didn't you ask me sooner?"  
  
Legolas and Aragorn looked at each other.  
  
"You mean to tell me," Aragorn began slowly, "that you would've...that I didn't have  
to...Elbereth--what was I thinking?!"  
  
"Hey," Legolas said, slightly hurt. "It isn't as if I'm not pretty, you know. But she is   
a good deal better-looking than you are."  
  
Debbie chuckled. "Hmm...one at a time, or both together? I hate making up my mind." 


	4. Chapter 4: Boromir's Final Stand

DEBBIE DOES THE FELLOWSHIP  
by Gypsie Rose (gypsierose3000@yahoo.com)  
  
CHAPTER 4: Boromir's Final Stand  
  
The day of Amon Hen arrived, and Debbie didn't know what to do about Boromir. He refused to  
listen to anything she said, and every time she tried to engage him in civil conversation,   
he got a rather unsettling gleam in his eye. In addition, she had another dilemma: all of   
the Fellowship with the exception of Boromir seemed determined to share her company every   
evening, and she hadn't slept a wink in, like, three days. So, she decided to walk off when   
no one was looking and take a short nap, completely forgetting that she was wearing the   
Ring. She'd recall later that she should have written it in her daily calendar...  
  
Debbie was startled awake by a rough hand on her head. "Wha--?"  
  
"Are you tired, Ringbearer? Taking a little rest away from everyone else?"  
  
Debbie's foot came up suddenly, catching the crouching Man squarely in the crotch. Boromir  
rolled to his side, clutching himself and making a pitiable high-pitched whine.  
  
"Thank goodness for self-defense class," Debbie muttered under her breath. She leaped to   
her feet and started back toward the camp.  
  
"Wait!" Boromir called in a voice still an octave or two above his normal tone. "Don't go!   
I'm sorry if I hurt you!"  
  
Debbie laughed. "Hurt *me*? Whatever." She continued to walk away.  
  
"No--come back! We could use the Ring together!" he called.  
  
She wheeled around, planting her feet firmly. "Why would I want to do anything with you,   
when all you've done is be unspeakably rude to me since I arrived?"  
  
Boromir limped to her, one hand outstretched. "I'm sorry, wi--Debbie. I really didn't mean  
anything by it. Please, let's talk about this for a minute."  
  
Debbie sized up the Man's fine features, and thought that if he didn't scowl and squint so   
much, he might actually be good-looking. Her gaze then drifted behind him, where she saw   
movement in the trees.  
  
"Ohmigod! Boromir, get away!"  
  
"I told you I was sorry," he said evenly through clenched teeth.  
  
"No--it's Amon Hen--don't you get it? Get out of here!" She pushed him, but he was heavy   
and only stumbled back a bit.  
  
"You'll pay for that, you witch!"  
  
"You are such an idiot!" she shouted, leaping to his side. An orc with an impressive bow   
had come out of the woods, and stood just a few feet away. Debbie put all her weight into   
her shoulder as she slammed into Boromir. She heard the *thwack* of an arrow as it   
connected with something.  
  
Boromir looked up at her in awe. She looked down to see if he was all right, and noticed   
the arrow sticking out of her laptop. She turned back to the orc with murder in her eyes.  
  
"You just 'killed' my $3,000 Titanium iBook, you churl! You are *so* going to pay for that   
with your blood!" She charged the surprised Uruk-hai, slamming him in the skull with the   
ruined computer. He fell to the ground in a puddle of his own gore.  
  
From behind, she could hear the bellowing of a horn.  
  
"Way to let them all know where we are," she complained at Boromir as more dark forms came  
out of the trees.  
  
******************************  
  
Aragorn crashed through the trees, sword aloft, hoping that he was not too late. The   
others were behind him, he knew, but only Legolas could really match his pace in the woods.   
He broke into a clearing and stopped short, amazed at the carnage before him.  
  
Orc corpses were strewn far and wide. Some had crushed skulls, some had reddish skin about  
their eyes, and a number seemed to have severely broken limbs. Boromir sat a ways off,   
staring wonderingly at a bloody but apparently unharmed Debbie.  
  
"You were ambushed?" Aragorn asked Boromir.  
  
The warrior snapped from his reverie long enough to respond. "Um, yes, but we're all right.   
Where were all of you?"  
  
"Roasting fish and swapping stories by the campfire, of course," the Ranger replied. "I   
didn't think they would come after Debbie. But I see you protected her well, Boromir."  
  
"I didn't do a blasted thing," Boromir answered. "This is all her work."  
  
Aragorn surveyed the grisly scene. "*All* of it?" he asked in amazement.  
  
Boromir only nodded mutely.  
  
"Lady Debbie, your skills are quite impressive," the Ranger complimented.  
  
"You already said that last night," Debbie answered, brushing off her bloodied clothing.   
"Besides, I had no idea that pepper spray was lethal to orcs." She paused. "I'm a mess--  
I'm going to the river to wash off."  
  
They all started to follow her.  
  
She turned and coughed. "Alone."  
  
They hung their heads and milled about, dejected.  
  
******************************  
  
Boromir hoped sincerely that Debbie wouldn't be too angry at his following her to the   
river; he'd hate to be on the receiving end of her well-wielded lap-top. He crept along,   
hiding in the bushes near the bank, trying to see where she'd gone.  
  
He found her standing under a rocky overhang where the river dipped naturally--a point   
where they'd portaged just before camp the night before. The river tumbled lightly over   
the boulder-strewn outcropping here, a precursor to the greater waterfall beyond. He   
watched as she stood beneath the cascading spray, running her hands along her body to   
clean the dirt and blood from herself. He felt his...heart fill with desire.  
  
Debbie stepped lightly from the water, wrapping herself in Aragorn's cloak. She stared,  
dismayed, at her ruined shirts. "I'll have to ask someone for another loaner," she said   
with a sigh.  
  
Boromir stepped from the bushes suddenly. "Lady Debbie, I would gladly give you the shirt   
off my back, if you should so desire it."  
  
Debbie shrieked and slapped Boromir across the face. "I thought I said 'alone'!"  
  
"I deserved that slap, and so much more," Boromir replied, falling to one knee. "Please,   
Lady Debbie, accept my humble apology for all the cruel things I have said these past ten   
days. You have more than proved your worth to the Fellowship--and you saved my life."  
  
"Well, I couldn't just stand there and let them shoot you, could I?" she replied plainly.   
"Now, about that shirt..."  
  
"I realize I've been an ass since we left Rivendell," Boromir confessed. "Only your   
selfless act of bravery could make me understand the error of my ways. I will strive to   
be a better man in the future."  
  
Debbie eyed him with suspicion. "You don't want the Ring?"  
  
"I will die trying to protect you from any who would take it from you," he replied gently.  
  
"That's a switch--but please don't. I don't have another lap-top." She smiled at him,   
and he returned the grin. She noticed he was boyishly handsome when he smiled.  
  
He stood, staring at her vision of loveliness for a moment, and then asked sheepishly, "So,   
would you care to blow the Horn of Gondor?"  
  
Debbie rolled her eyes and reached up to pinch his cheek. "Boromir, sweetie, you really   
need to get a new pick-up line!" 


	5. Chapter 5: A Savior Arrives

DEBBIE DOES THE FELLOWSHIP  
by Gypsie Rose (gypsierose3000@yahoo.com)  
  
CHAPTER 5: A Savior Arrives  
  
"I insist--take the Ring to Mordor," Boromir said earnestly. "I was selfish to have wanted   
to go home in the first place, and it's so much more important to get rid of the cursed   
thing once and for all."  
  
"Well, that's a switch," Frodo muttered. "Wonder what's gotten into him?"  
  
"More like what he's gotten into," Sam snickered.  
  
"More like who," Pippin corrected.  
  
The Fellowship sat on the banks of the river, listening to the roaring of the Rauros falls   
in the distance. The were trying to decide a new course of action, now that Debbie had   
changed their paths irrevocably.  
  
"If we're going to Mordor, we'd best get going," Aragorn pressed. "'Tis a long journey,   
and I do not wish to burden Debbie with the Ring for longer than is necessary."  
  
Debbie smiled, looking quite lovely in the new black shirt the Ranger had lent her. "It's   
not really a burden at all."  
  
"He's right, you know," Legolas added.  
  
"True--one does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir agreed.  
  
"Why not?" asked Debbie.  
  
The others looked at her, agape.  
  
"We've just walked into everyplace else. Why should this be any different?"  
  
"You are either exceedingly brave or exceedingly foolish," Aragorn said to her.  
  
"Do not insult the Lady Debbie," Gimli growled, standing.  
  
"I did not intend to insult her," Aragorn retorted, "I simply--"  
  
"You simply wanted her all to yourself this evening," Merry accused.  
  
"He had her last night," Frodo reminded them all.  
  
"So did you," Legolas pointed out. "And Sam. And Gimli, too, by the sounds of it." He   
tossed his blond hair, which was done up in an attractive French braid.  
  
"You're just salty because you didn't see any 'action in battle' last night yourself,"   
countered Pippin.  
  
"Oh, 'salty', eh? And now you're trying to speak in her language just to impress her," the   
elf sniffed.  
  
"I don't have to do that--I've got skills enough to make an impression on my own!"  
  
"Um, guys?" Debbie tried to interrupt.  
  
"Shh--I'm defending your honor," Pippin insisted.  
  
"Defending your own, more like," Sam added.  
  
"None of you has any honor at all--nor do you know how to please a lady such as Debbie,"  
Boromir said, jumping to his feet.  
  
"And I suppose you do?" Aragorn asked testily.  
  
"She seemed pretty pleased the other night," Boromir answered smugly.  
  
"That's because she'd been with me first," came the future King's reply.  
  
"Guys?" Debbie tried again. None of them seemed to be paying her any mind at all. There   
had been a week of nothing but argument by day and...tossing and turning by night, and she   
was growing weary. She stood up herself, and shouted, "Will you all please SHUT THE HELL   
UP?!"  
  
"You've angered Lady Debbie," Frodo accused.  
  
"You were arguing, too," Merry pointed out.  
  
"WHAT PART OF 'SHUT UP' DO YOU PEOPLE NOT UNDERSTAND!!!?"  
  
The Fellowship fell silent.   
  
"If we're gonna go, we should just go and get it over with!" Debbie said. "And tonight,   
I want a full night's rest, got it?"  
  
"Perhaps I can find an incantation to help with that."  
  
The voice came, deep and rich, out of the woods behind them. They turned to see Gandalf,  
resplendent in robes of white, leaning on his staff at the edge of the forest.  
  
"I've been watching over you for two days now," the wizard continued. "You seem to have  
completely lost your way, and I believe this lady is the cause."  
  
"I didn't mean to," Debbie said. "They won't leave me alone."  
  
"I think I've found a way to solve your problem and ours at once, my dear," Gandalf   
answered. "It may involve some flashy, dangerous bits, though, so why don't we go off a   
ways from the rest? I wouldn't want any of them getting caught up in the spell."  
  
"She's got the Ring, Gandalf," Frodo said.  
  
"I noticed." The wizard glared at Aragorn, who quickly bowed his head. "I think perhaps   
that we can send--Debbie, is it?--back to her own world, and send the Ring along with her.   
It'll do no harm without a Dark Lord to wield it."  
  
"Miss Debbie's...leaving?" Sam quavered, teary-eyed.  
  
"Thank you," Debbie whispered to the wizard. Then, out loud, she added, "It's been great   
fun traveling with you all, but I really need my sleep."  
  
Gimli strode forth and wrapped his bear-like arms around her legs. "I shall certainly   
miss you, Lady Debbie."  
  
"I have a feeling I may miss you as well, Gimli," she answered, patting him on the head.  
  
Legolas stepped forth, touching his blond braid. "Thank you for showing me how to do  
this," he said, kissing her hand.  
  
"No problem," she replied.  
  
"I'll never forget what you did for me," Frodo called shyly from the sidelines.  
  
"I'll never forget what you did for my Master," Sam called after him.  
  
"You both take care of each other," Debbie said sweetly.  
  
Merry and Pippin embraced each other, crying too hard to comment.  
  
Boromir stepped forth, and with one fluid motion, swept Debbie off her feet and into his   
embrace. He leaned her backwards, kissing her passionately. "I could never love another   
as I love you, my Lady," he declared.  
  
"Be brave and true, Boromir, as I know you can," she answered breathlessly.  
  
Aragorn came forth last. "We shall miss you, Ringbearer," he said softly, taking her hand.  
  
She pressed something into his palm.  
  
"What's this?" he said, looking at the oddly colored box with the strange runes upon it.  
  
"Remember how you were saying you were worried about 'creating heirs' before you were ready  
for them?" Debbie asked the Ranger.  
  
"Um...well..."  
  
"These are for you and Arwen. When you unwrap the package, it should be pretty apparent   
how you use them. Just...er...sheathe the sword, if you catch my meaning." She winked.  
  
Aragorn embraced her tightly in a strong hug.  
  
"If that's all in order?" Gandalf asked, his bushy eyebrows raised.  
  
Debbie waved at the Fellowship one last time before stepping into the forest with the   
wizard. "One question, Gandalf, before we get on with this."  
  
"Yes?" he asked, turning to face her.  
  
"Is that a staff in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"  
  
Gandalf sighed. "Both, actually. I suppose this spell will keep another half an hour."  
  
THE END :)  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story was born out of a very giggly 3 a.m. conversation. Hopefully   
it's as funny now as it was to us at the time! For those who are wondering, Debbie's not   
really a self-insertion, in the sense that neither of us are much like her. She's more   
an over-the-top parody of a typical self-insertion character. We hope you have enjoyed   
her exploits. If you liked this story, be sure to read "Debbie Does The Two Towers"! 


End file.
